


The Man with a Stuffed Bear

by sheankelor



Category: Christopher Robin (2018), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-19
Updated: 2018-08-19
Packaged: 2019-06-29 19:37:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15736017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sheankelor/pseuds/sheankelor
Summary: Roderick Stumpmire was working the ticket booth when a man with a stuffed bear came to buy a ticket. When the bear spoke, he knew he was dealing with a wizard.





	The Man with a Stuffed Bear

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Schattengestalt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schattengestalt/gifts).



> This tale was born because the ticket man smirked when Pooh spoke and just calmly told Christopher where the red balloon went. He had to be a wizard. 
> 
> This has not seen a beta - so if there is a mistake, please kindly let me know. 
> 
> Happy Birthday, Schattengestalt! I know it's a touch early, but ... I couldn't hold off on posting.

_ The Man with a Stuffed Bear _

 

Roderick Stumpmire watched the man work his way through the small press of people near the ticket windows. The press was normal for King’s Cross, especially in the Muggle section. The Wizarding section could get just as crazy, but typically there were more Muggles trying to get a ticket.

 

What caught Roderick’s eye was the way he was holding a stuffed bear to his side almost like one would hold an errant child you’d just scooped up with your free arm, your arm around their waist snuggled close even as their feet and hands dangled. The bear itself was hardly worth looking at. It was an old stuffed bear with parts of its fake fur worn thin in places, but Roderick knew it was still well loved. The man might look exasperated and stressed, but the arm around the bear was still gentle, clutching it just tight enough to ensure it didn't drop, but not crush it – just as one would do with a child. ‘ _The red travel balloon might be a bit over the top – no Muggle stuffed bear is going to wander off – but it suits them.’_

 

The man made it through, heading straight for Roderick’s window. The former Slytherin donned his professional mask, one he learned from another Slytherin half-blood at Hogwarts, and prepared to treat this man with the respect he felt he deserved – not with the sly humour he could see on the other faces watching him. The man had the courage to walk in such a public space with a stuffed animal in his arms, not in a case, without a child in tow.

 

“Why is he in a cage?”

 

The bear spoke.

 

Roderick couldn’t help the tip of his lips moving up into a small smirk at both the question and the way the man reacted – as if it was perfectly normal that a stuffed bear talked. _‘Wizard – he’s a Wizard who knows how to dress as a Muggle far better than Dad ever did. I mean, he matches. Hat, overcoat, suit, and shoes – he looks the perfect Muggle!’_

 

“Hartfield, Sussex,” the man said as he juggled the bear and his satchel, his brolly tucked between the handles, exactly like countless Muggles around him.

 

“Five shillings, sir,” Roderick replied, doing his best not to stare at the bear. Up close it was easy to see how worn it was and just how much the man cared for it. Especially as he gently sat it on the ground to dig out the fee.

 

The little red balloon walked away from the window as he exchanged the coin for a ticket. _‘I wonder what charm was used on it. I’ve never seen an animation charm that was so well done. That sentence – it might as well have been a three or four-year-old asking it – it didn’t sound programmed._ The man picked up the ticket and then went to pick up the bear. The man spun about looking only worried not shocked.

 

“The travel balloon went that way,” Roderick pointed to his right. He hoped the poor Wizard found his wandering friend before it caused an incident.

 

The rest of the day was just a touch brighter as if the red balloon carrying stuffed bear had cast a subtle Cheering Charm on him.

 

That evening, when Roderick shut the door of his family’s flat, a large smile grew on his face. Dad was casting spells to set the table and Mum was puttering in the kitchen, putting the final touches on dinner. _‘Dad still wears robes and when he tries to blend in with the Muggle population, Mum and I are always having to correct his choices. Even then, he doesn’t blend – there is just something off, that stands out. The man earlier – he was the same. Well, he did blend better, but … it was in the way he dealt with the bear. It was no big deal that it could talk. Dad’s been using magic to set the table as long as I can remember, but Mum always looks so … in awe of it.’_

 

“Welcome home, Roderick!” Both his parents called as he walked further into the place.

 

§§§§§

 

Alastor Moody sank onto the seat across from Roderick. He knew his school chum worked the Muggle ticket booth at King’s Cross and if there was anything to see, Roderick would see it.

 

Brown eyes met his blue and a small smile curled the other man’s lips. “Make yourself at home, Alastor.”

 

Clucking his mug on the table top, Alastor let out a deep sigh.

 

“What’s got you huffing like that? Being an Auror not all it was cracked up to be?” Roderick joshed. “Figured you figure that out during training – you were always the bright one.”

 

“It’s not that, but it’s kind of related,” Alastor watched, waiting for just the right moment to ask his question. As the curiosity became noticeable in Roderick’s face, he struck. “You’ve heard the news from yesterday – about the man with the animated stuffed bear?”

 

Recognition was in the brown eyes, but the face held a touch of confusion. “What news?”

 

“He carried the bear through the streets of London – the _Muggle_ streets of London – and it was talking, saying hello to people, and some lady saw him talking to it in a phone booth. It wouldn’t have been too bad, except it talked back. The Obliviators worked late last night cleaning up that mess,” he sipped his bitters letting that sink in before continuing. “Mrs Eggleston reported him. She was in the train station when she spotted the bear walking around. Her son wanted it, so, she put it in the pram with him and then this Muggle looking man snatched it. Her boy said it was his and the man said it was his first,” Alastor shook his head in disbelief, “and the bear agreed with the man! So, we got all we need to book him with breaking the Statute, but we can’t find him.”

 

Roderick glanced out the window, his eyes focusing on a couple with a little girl with them as they walked by. “What if he wasn’t intending to break it? What if he was just trying to take the bear home?”

 

Alastor took a swig of his drink and scowled, “Then the bear wouldn’t have been back with others today, but this time with a little girl. Caused a cabby to wreak into a news-stand.”

 

Brown eyes darted back to his and this time they were filled with a touch of worry and a bit of mirth. “Did they really? Everyone survived unharmed?”

 

“Yes, but it was still lots of work – we had to pay the cabby and repair both the car and the news-stand. Then the Obliviators had to do their work,” bemoaned Alastor. He gave up on trying to get Roderick to tell him anything, he could tell that the man knew something, but wasn’t going to give it up. Not unless something horrible happened.

 

“Pity that – this day and age, a bit of magic is just what some of these Muggles need. They're still worn down by their Hitler and our Grindelwald. We are too.”

 

Alastor rolled his eyes and drained his mug. “Roderick, if you decide to tell what you know, you know how to reach me.”

 

A moment later, he strode out of the small pub.

 

Roderick leant back in his seat, his gaze automatically finding the stuffed bear Wizard and his family. Alastor walked right by them without even a second glance. A bubble of warmth filled him as the man rested a hand on the little girl’s shoulder and she beamed up at him with her mum smiling just as happily. This is what a family is supposed to look like. Not the downtrodden, worn out people he typically saw walking along the street, buying tickets at his window, or even in this pub. _‘I’m glad the daughter is with them. She looked so … alone this morning running through the station even with her arms full of the animated stuffed animals. I remember the bear – she needed someone with a touch more common sense to navigate London.’_

 

Lifting his drink, he washed down the cottage pie, a smile curling his lips. There were still too many Muggle haters out there. Ones who would scream blood-traitor at the drop of the hat, especially if the said witch or wizard was married to a Muggle, and many of them were in the Wizengamot. No, he wouldn’t be reporting this happy mixed family to Alastor or any other Auror.

 

Sometimes you just had to reward a Wizard for doing the right thing, and, to him, collecting a loved childhood toy to pass down counted.

 

 


End file.
